The power of belief

"You will never walk again. You will have to use a wheelchair." Unprepared for the doctor's grim prognosis, I　heard his words fall heavily on my ears, numbing my soul. If I had never felt hopeless before, I felt hopeless then.

“你再也不能走路了。你得用轮椅。”由于对医生残酷的预言毫无准备，他的话对我犹如五雷轰顶，灵魂出壳。如果说在那之前我从未绝望过，那一刻我真的感到绝望了。

 

 

My catastrophic car accident had left me unconscious and in critical conditon. I awakened to find both legs swathed in casts, the left one in traction to aid the healing of a broken hip and pelvis. While I had other serious injuries, my legs were my prime concern. Working as a special-needs teacher and "on the go" by nature, I couldn't imagine being confined, let alone an invalid.

惨重的车祸使我昏迷并处于危急状态。醒后发现双腿包着石膏,左腿被牵引着以便于髋骨和骨盆愈合.虽然身上还有其它重伤,但我最担心的是我的双腿.作为一名特教老师,生性好动,我连身体受困都难以想象,更别说成为一个残疾人了.

 

Lying in my bed motionless and relying on prayer, I wondered how I could give my ten-year-old son hope that Mom would heal. He'd been cheerful on every visit, but I saw the fear in his eyes. Looking forward to having a totally handicapped mother and the implications of that were weighing heavily on his little shoulder. He needed the ray of hope that I would not be in a wheelchair forever.

躺在床上一动也不能动,现在只有祈祷,我不知道如何让我十岁的儿子相信我能痊愈.每次来看我,他都很高兴,但我能读到他眼里的恐惧.想想将来有一个残疾的妈妈,这意味着一幅重担将压在他小小的肩膀上.他需要希望的光芒:他的妈妈不会永远坐在轮椅里.

 

Just maybe, I thought, I could use this experience to teach what to do when adversity strikes. But I wasn't just being altruistic. I needed something besides my physical healing to sink my Irish stubbornness into--it's that trait that kep me going through the toughest challenge of my life.

我想,这或许会实现的,我可以用这次人生经历来告诉人们,当遇到不幸打击时该怎么做.但我并不是仅仅利他主义的.除身体恢复以外,我需要把我的爱尔兰人的倔强注入到某种东西种去--正是这种品质使我应对我生活中最严峻的挑战.

 

It didn't take me long to become impatient with my limited mobility and even with the pace the therapists were willing to to with me. I vowed to learn everything they showed me. Attempting to move on my own at night after the nurses's last rounds, I'm sure I broke every hospital rule. I needed to make things happen my way. And being confined to a wheelchair the rest of my life didn't fit into my plans.

我很快就对我活动的局限性和医生对我的治疗进程失去耐心.我发誓要学会他们教给我的一切.晚上在护士最后一次查房后尝试着自己站起来,相信这违反了医院的规定.我需要事情按我的想法进展,让我的后半生坐在轮椅上显然不符合我的计划.

 

At first, I taught myself to move from the bed to the wheeelchair. I made tiny movements for weeks, afraid of falling, but more afraid to just lie in bed. I reached a point where my arms were strong enough to swing me into the chair. Getting out of the chair and back into bed proved more difficult, but I soon developed a method of grabbing the sheets with one hand and the traction bar with the other. I wouldn't win any gymnastics competitions, but it worked. I often wondered what the nurses and therapists would have done if they'd seen me struggling on my own.

起初,我学会了把自己从床上移到轮椅上.我用了好几周的时间来做微小的移动,担心摔倒,但我更担心只能躺在床上.我终于使我的双臂强壮到能把我撑到轮椅中去.可是,从轮椅中回到床上证明更困难.但是我找到了一个办法:一只手抓住床单,另一只手抓住牵引横杠.我不会在任何体操比赛中获胜,但这方法确实有效.我总是担心如果护士或医生们见到我独自挣扎的样子,他们会怎么做.

 

Once sure I cuold return myself to the bed from the wheelchair, I began to tackle a walker that had been left in my room by a former hospital roommate. If the nurses noticed that the wheelchair and walker were not where they had left them, they weren't saying anything. I wondered if a conspiracy of silence had developed: I wouldn't say anything about my secret therapy sessions, and they kept quiet as well.

当确信我能从轮椅上回到床上，我便开始用起助行器，那是我以前病友留在病房里的。假如护士们发现轮椅和助行器换地方了，他们也不会说什么。我不知道我们是不是形成了一种默契：我从不提我秘密治疗的任何事情，他们也始终保持沉默。

 

Every night in my private room, as soon as I knew I wouldn't be interrupted or discovered, I wuld maneuver myself from the bed to the floor, holding on to the bed rail for dear life, and slowly putting my weight on my feet. After several weeks of these ever so difficult efforts, my strength and confidence continued to build. So came the ultimate challenge: alternating and moving my feet one inch at a time. I had dreams of strding briskly down the halls at school, playing dodge ball at recess, and driving again--grandiose dreams to be sure, but I knew one thing for certain: there would come a day when the wheelchair would be gone and I would walk.

每天晚上在我的个人病房里，每当我觉得没人来打搅或发现时，我便使自己从床上挪到地上，用劲全力抓住床栏，慢慢地把身体的重量移到脚上。经过数周的艰苦努力，我的力量和信心与日俱增。然后迎来了最终的挑战：每次交替移动双脚一英寸。我怀着这样的梦想：将来能轻松漫步在学校的大厅里，休息时玩躲球游戏，并能再次开车--确实是宏伟的梦想,但有一点我确信:总有一天我将离开轮椅,独立行走。

 

It came the time to share my accomplishments with the person most important to me. One night, before my son arrived for his regular visit, I pulled myself into the chair and stationed the walker in front of me. When I heard him greet the nurses at the station, I dragged myself up. As he opened the door, I took a few small steps. Shocked, he could only watch as I returned and started back to bed. All of the pain, the fear, and the struggle faded as I heard the words I had longed to hear, "Mommy, you can walk!"

和我生命中最重要的人来分享我的成就的时刻终于来到了。一天晚上，在儿子照例来探视我之前，我坐到到轮椅里来到助行器前。当我听到他与护士站的护士们打招呼时，我努力站起来。当他打开门时，我走了几小步。由于惊讶，他只是注视着我慢慢退回，并回到床上。“妈妈，你能走了！”当我听到这句渴望已久的话时，所有的疼痛、担忧和挣扎痛苦都惭惭一扫而光。

 

I am now able to walk alone, sometimes using a cane. I am able to take public transportation to shop and visit friends. My life has been blessed with many milesontes and accomplishments of which I am proud. But none has ever brought me the satisfaction and joy offered by those four little words spoken by my son.

现在我能独立行走了，有时用一下拐杖。我能坐公交车去购物或拜访朋友。由于生活中的转折和自己引以为豪的成绩，我因此而更感谢生活。然而没有什么能比得上我儿子那简单的四个字带给我的满足与欢乐